WnW 2.7

I couldn’t leave through the front door. That hallway was a minefield and without knowing where I should place my feet on this quiet night, any unfamiliar creak or groan of the house could tip off the Cathrows. They were keeping a close eye on me.

After putting my shirt back on, I leaned out the window. A row of flower bushes lined the side of the house. I didn’t fancy finding out if they had thorns, so I jumped over them and landed in a crouch on the soft grass.

This was fine for bare feet, but I knew that I’d have trouble walking far on the road without shoes. Unfortunately, that meant getting inside the front entrance.

I looked back at the window I’d just exited. The pale colours of the flowers gave me a better idea of the outline of the bushes in the dark. The bushes were short and uniform in height, except when they got near the window, where the bushes crept up to be right underneath the sill. What the fuck is up with the plants around here?

I crept around the side of the house, keeping below the windows. When I made it to the porch, I cautiously looked over the top. All was still, save for the small movements the rocking chair made, pushed by the wind.

How much noise did the front door make? I struggled to remember. I rose a little higher, staring at my objective. Maybe it didn’t matter. I could swing the front door open, grab the shoes and run. I could be far down that road before Aaron or Beth could catch me.

Should I hide if a car came by? Looking out past the washed-out red of the barn, I could see in the distance the lights of some other farm. I couldn’t trust that the neighbours would be any nicer than Aaron, they might decide to take me back to the homestead.

The front door creaked open. I threw myself to the ground, heart pounding. A cone of light swept over the sleeping farm. Did they already know I wasn’t in my room? The person with the flashlight walked down the steps and out across the yard, towards the wheat field.

Perfect, one less person in the house to worry about. I watched as the figure took a small path, where the wheat had been flattened down into a trail that curved out of view. I looked back and forth between the front door and the flashlight getting further and further away. Once again, I was faced with a choice. Run or get a chance at learning what this was all about.

I’m such an idiot, I thought as my feet carried me softly after the wavering flashlight. I kept my distance, following by the light that bounced off the stalks of wheat rather than actually being in view of whoever it was. Before yesterday, I would have felt assured by the escape route that the rows of crops would provide should the person turn back around, but now, I couldn’t help but see this path as a corridor surrounded on both sides by a sea of dark observers that had no eyes, waiting for me to come too close.

I was relieved when the end of the field came into view. The flashlight illuminated a dense grove of trees. Over the treetops, the shadowy outline of a spire reached out to touch the thin sliver of the moon. It was the chapel steeple.

Once the light disappeared within the trees, I entered the grove. 

Leaves crunched softly underfoot. I was navigating as much by touch as by sight, feeling the rough bark of each tree that I passed. Sharp branches that were nearly invisible in the dark made me take a slow, winding route, often stumbling as I kicked roots that grew above the dirt. My eyes strained to glimpse the flashlight, but it was nowhere to be found. After walking a little further, I stopped, realizing that I had no idea if I was even facing the same direction as when I had entered the trees. 

Standing still, I realized that I felt a pull. My feet moved more easily in that direction, like I was walking downhill. This forest was a black hole, drawing in everything around it. I let it guide me and the hostile trees seemed to give way, the branches no longer threatening to poke my eyes out, my feet finding a path between the trunks.

I came to the dark shape of a small building nestled among the trees. It was made of stone bricks, some had fallen out from the walls and vines creeped in and out of these holes. I could see light coming from within. I froze as something cracked much more sharply under my foot. Cautiously, I bent down and brushed whatever it was off of my foot. There was a tinkling sound and I picked up a piece to hold it close to my face. It was a piece of broken glass, stained a pale blue that seemed to shine with what little light was available.

Voices came from within. I snuck close to a wall, peering through a hole to see the interior. Leafy green plants crowded the space inside. There was movement, but it was obscured by the wide leaves.

“The tree is almost ready. You’re doing wonderful, dear.” It was Beth’s voice, sweet like honey.

Another voice spoke. “What will happen to me after?” It was a young woman’s voice and it sent a chill through me as I realized it was the voice from my dreams.

“That’s not for me to decide,” Beth responded. There was the sound of something being set down with a clink.

“But you know, don’t you?”

There was a moment of tense silence. “You should get some sleep, dear. You look exhausted. But eat up first.”

I heard cutlery scraping against a plate. “Good girl,” Beth crooned. “Don’t worry so much about your future. God will reward our faithfulness. Do your part and everything will work out.”

The light swept towards my window and I ducked down. Had I been seen? The sound of footsteps rustling leaves came from around the corner of the building. I pressed against the cold stone and watched as Beth walked past me, her pale appearance made ghostly by the flashlight. I held my breath as she walked away from the chapel.

“You need to leave!” a voice hissed.

I jumped, the voice coming directly from the other side of the hole. Without the light, the inside of the chapel was pitch black.

“Hurry and get back to the house,” the woman whispered urgently.

“Who are you?” I asked angrily. “Why are you fucking with my head?”

“I can’t tell you anything,” her voice was getting panicky. “You need to go back right now or she’ll find out you’re here. Julie knows where you are.”

I smacked a hand against the stone. “I don’t care! I deserve answers.”

“You need to finish the dream.”

“Fuck that!” I spat.

“Beth has her grip on you. I can’t fight her when our connection is so thin.”

“None of this makes any sense.”

“Please,” she said desperately. “I don’t want to lose you. Get back to the house. If Beth learns from Julie that you’re here, she might kill you.”

“Julie?”

“The baby.”

My blood ran cold. The baby. 

“The baby has a gift too?” I asked in disbelief.

“They all do. Be careful.”

I wanted to stay, to keep demanding answers until I was satisfied. But instead I tore myself away and ran, blindly, into the forest. It was stupid of me to be so trusting, I had no idea who this woman was and yet the emotions she showed seemed so genuine. I wanted to trust her. The woman seemed to be at odds with the Cathrows and I was in desperate need of allies.

Branches whipped past, leaving stinging marks on my face. I narrowly dodged a trunk that appeared out of nowhere in the darkness. Gail’s voice rang in my head, What’s your gift?

I burst clear of the treeline and saw that there was a glow coming from beyond the field. The lights were on by the house. I cut through the field, wheat slapping against my face. It didn’t try to grab me. My legs burned but I pushed forward. I could hear the cries of the baby, Julie, coming from inside the house.

I got clear of the field and saw that the house lights were on in the windows of the upper floor, but no one was outside. I might still have a chance to sneak back inside. I crossed the yard, staying low, keeping an eye on the windows that looked like glowing eyes on a massive face. There was another light, steadily approaching up the dirt road to the farm. It grew until it split into a pair of headlights. I froze, only halfway across the yard, shielding my eyes from the blinding light. The vehicle pulled into the yard. It was a red truck covered in dirt.

The front door opened. 

“Nick?” Beth called out from the house. The truck lights turned off and I saw Beth on the porch, holding Julie in her arms. I shivered as the baby pointed at me and looked at her mother. It stared with eyes wide awake and alert.

“What are you doing outside at night, Nick?” Beth asked, looking at me with open distaste.

I kept my expression neutral and tried to control my breathing so it didn’t seem like I had just been running. “Heard a car.” I gestured at the truck.

The truck doors opened on both sides and a large man stepped out from the driver’s side. He wore a large cowboy hat and flannel shirt that was a size too small for him, creating gaps where you could see his skin between the buttons. The man scowled at me and went to the back of the truck.

I looked at Beth and was surprised to see that she had changed her expression in an instant, smiling gently and waving to the woman that sat in the passenger side. The man reappeared on the passenger side, pushing a wheelchair. He helped a woman with greasy hair out of the truck, making sure she was comfortable in the wheelchair before pushing her over to the porch. It was the woman I had seen visiting with Beth the other day.

“Carol, Bill,” Beth greeted the couple. “What brings you here so late at night? Are you two alright?”

“We’re fine, Beth,” Carol said, glancing at me distrustfully. “But there is a problem.”

Bill spoke, “Got up in the middle of the night and heard a noise outside. I went to go investigate and I came ‘cross some fresh tracks ‘round my apple tree.”

Beth’s smile faltered. “What kind of tracks, Bill?”

“Shoe prints. I don’t take kindly to trespassers, Mrs. Cathrow.” His gaze settled on me.

The door to the house opened and Aaron came stomping out. “What’s this about?” He asked curtly.

“Your boy’s been trespassin’.” Bill said, standing his ground against Aaron’s glare. “Jason, right? Walkin’ around my property at night, stealin’ apples, doin’ who knows what else.” Bill pointed angrily at me. “Maybe this one has been, too. I warned you about bringing thieves to our lands, Aaron.”

“It’s just a few apples, Bill,” Aaron said. “Unless you have evidence of anythin’ else?”

Bill’s face went visibly red, even in the dim light. Carol reached up and rubbed his arm. “It’s okay, honey. I’m sure they understand.”

“We do,” Aaron said. His voice carried clearly on the night air. “How’s your leg, Carol? Still givin’ you pain?”

Carol drew her lips into a tight line. She shook her head.

“That’s good. You sacrificed so much to ensure your family was among God’s chosen. Bill, she understands why your corn grows so quickly, why your apples taste the sweetest. Do you understand?”

Bill began to look uncomfortable.

“Are you not committed to the community?” Aaron asked quietly.

Bill shook his head fervently. “I am!”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem grateful. Perhaps you’re doubting that you have God’s favour? Was Carol’s donation not enough?”

“No!” he said loudly, gripping Carol’s wheelchair. “It was enough. It was just a few apples. Sorry for botherin’ ye.” Bill quickly turned Carol’s wheelchair around and pushed it back to the truck. I could see resentment in Carol’s expression.

“Have a nice night, folks,” Aaron said, waving.

The truck backed up out of the homestead gate and turned around before driving away. Aaron watched the truck fade into the night as he spoke, “So. What were you doin’ out at night, boy?”

“I just heard some noises and came outside to see what it was.”

Aaron didn’t say anything. Then he turned and went into the house. Beth and the baby stared at me.

“Seems a little extreme to get that upset over some apples,” I said casually.

“The neighbours can get a little emotional,” Beth replied.

“And you keep them in check by threatening them with ‘donations’?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Beth snapped. “Our work is sacred.”

The door crashed open and Aaron came out, dragging along a struggling Jason in his grip. He threw Jason off the porch, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

The baby started to cry. Beth made no effort to soothe it as Aaron stepped off the porch.

“Hey!” I shouted, running over to stand between Aaron and Jason.

Aaron brought his face close to mine. The veins in his eyes were like cracks in a windshield. “Y’know, I’m starting to question my decision to save you from that crash, boy. You’ve done nothin’ but meddle.”

I stood firm, bracing myself for the inevitable attack.

But then Aaron drew back and seemed to force himself to relax. “Soon,” he said quietly. “It won’t matter soon enough. I can feel it. You’ll be enough to finish it.”

I glared at him warily. “Finish what?”

Aaron turned back to the house and climbed the steps. 

“Don’t try to run,” Beth said. The baby stared at my chest. “It won’t work.”

“I won’t,” I replied, anger boiling in my chest. Jason met my eyes. Anger burned there as well. I’m going to tear this whole place down.

Aaron paused with the door open. He looked back at me and said, “I look forward to your donation.”